Page 31 of Dirty Liars

“None taken,” Jack said cordially. “Unfortunately, your son’s murder isn’t the first we’ve come across. The team that is investigating is highly skilled.”

“Hmm,” Nicholas said, pursing his lips. And then he pulled a file from the top of his desk and dropped it in front of Jack with a deliberate thud. “Would either of you care for a drink? Brandy? Coffee?”

“No, thank you,” Jack answered. He hadn’t picked up the file folder to see what was inside, but the top flap had opened when Nicholas had dropped it and the contents had spilled out.

The bottom dropped out of my stomach when I saw the newspaper clippings. There were several pictures of my parents and the crash site where they’d faked their deaths and substituted two other bodies to be found in the fiery wreckage. Edging out from one of the clippings I saw Cole’s academy picture. The file was very thick, and I knew Nicholas had done a deep dive on every one of us.

Jack didn’t take the bait, didn’t even glance at the file. “You’ve been busy,” he said mildly.

“The State Department has the adequate resources and experiences to find out what happened to my son.” Nicholas’s voice remained calm, but something dangerous flickered in his eyes.

“With all due respect,” Jack said. “I’ve worked with some of those guys at the State Department. I’ll stand with my current team any day of the week.”

“I don’t mind using my connections,” Nicholas said, his voice never changing timbre. I could see why he’d have made an effective diplomat in the negotiating room—there was steel beneath the surface calm. “I can always make a call to the governor. You have political aspirations, don’t you, Sheriff Lawson?”

“I actually got a call from Tom this morning,” Jack said easily. “We had a nice talk. The governor’s ball is coming up next month. And no, I don’t have political aspirations.”

Jack might not have political aspirations, but he’d been neck deep in politics his whole life. Jack came from money. The kind of money that bought influence and recognition. Jack’s father had been asked more than once to run for a Senate seat and had always turned it down, not liking the games that were played and the favors that were demanded to actually sit in the seat and represent the people. Jack felt the same way. But that didn’t mean he didn’t know people in high places.

Those same people saw a future in Jack and wanted him at the helm. We were constantly being invited to things I had no desire to go to. But Jack said it was good to keep those connections just to make people wonder what future plans are. That way they’d always have a little bit of fear of what you know about them and what they might owe you later down the road.

Behind Nicholas, Cecilia’s gaze drifted to the window, her fingers absently worrying at the edge of her sleeve. For a moment, I saw lucidity flash across her features—a glimpse of fear quickly masked.

“You’re not curious to know more about your…team?” Nicholas asked, gesturing to the folder that lay open between us, the newspaper photos of my parents’ deaths clearly visible.

Jack smiled and steepled his fingers in front of him. “Like I said, I stand with my team. They’re good. What can you tell me about Chloe Matthews?”

Nicholas stared at Jack, and I couldn’t tell if there was respect or aggravation in his eyes. Maybe a little of both. His fingers stopped their drumming, and he leaned back slightly, reassessing his approach.

“Ms. Matthews was a gold-digging whore,” Nicholas said, the crude words jarring in his cultured voice. “If you’ll excuse my language. His mother and I did not approve. Theo’s first wife, Vivica, was a wonderful woman—well bred and well educated. She spoke five languages, and she would have helped elevate Theo in political circles.”

At the mention of Chloe, I noticed Cecilia’s hand tighten on the arm of the settee, her knuckles going white despite her drugged state.

“How long ago did they divorce?” Jack asked.

“It’s been probably fifteen years now,” Nicholas said, and a shadow passed across his face.

“So Vivica wouldn’t have had hard feelings about his remarriage?”

“Of course not,” Nicholas said, too quickly. “She was more than happy to fly in from London to attend the wedding. That’s where she lives full-time. She and Theo stayed on friendly terms, and Cecilia and I see her at family gatherings. Vivica was very patient with Theo, so I cannot blame her for the divorce. His mother and I spoiled him. He was our only son. And he was not ready to be a good husband and father when he married Vivica. There was a time when Theo went astray. Over the last several years he’d finally come back to us. Come to his senses.”

The way Nicholas emphasizedcome back to usseemed significant. I filed it away to examine later.

I could see Cecilia out of the corner of my eye, frozen like a statue in her drug-induced state. She’d not moved a muscle during the entire conversation, except for that brief moment of lucidity when Chloe’s name was mentioned. Her silence spoke volumes.

“When did you first meet Chloe?” Jack asked.

“At the engagement party in January,” he said. “I could only roll my eyes the first time I saw them together. She was young enough to be his daughter.” Nicholas shook his head in disgust. “She was certainly not what we’d been expecting. Cecilia noticed the ring on Chloe’s finger. It had belonged to Cecilia’s mother. Theo had asked Vivica to return it when they divorced and she graciously did. Seeing the ring on that tramp’s finger hurt us both deeply and I argued with Theo about it.” His lips pursed into a fine line and he looked down. “I regret that now.”

I watched the security guard out of the corner of my eye as he shifted his stance slightly, one hand moving closer to his concealed weapon. Interesting reaction to what should have been a straightforward answer.

“Do you know anything about Chloe’s background? Where she came from?” Jack pressed, and I saw a flicker of something—alarm?—in Nicholas’s eyes.

“I don’t,” he said, the lie as smooth as polished glass. “I do know she was hiding from something or someone. Theo utilized my resources to get her legal documents. We argued about that as well as it was my reputation on the line and not his.

“Theo also increased his personal security.” Nicholas opened his desk drawer and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, tapping one out and then putting it between his lips to light it. He inhaled deeply and let out a long stream of smoke with the agitation he’d been holding inside. The action seemed calculated, a diversion to hide the subtle tremor in his hands.

“He was spending a fortune on her,” he continued, smoke curling around his words. “He’d moved her into that ridiculous house in Newcastle he’d bought.” He laughed without humor. “He and I argued about the house too. We seemed to do nothing but argue. We always rubbed each other the wrong way. Theo grew up in palaces, went to the best boarding schools, and was given every opportunity. And he always did his best to do the opposite of whatever was expected of him. So he bought a house in some yuppie, unimportant city and put a child in charge of his businesses. But he told me he wanted to have a regular life. What the hell does that even mean?”

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